


Unexpected Places: Extras

by legalliam (laeteaillard)



Series: Endless Nights [2]
Category: Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Gym Class Heroes, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: Attempted Child Abuse, Attempted Sexual Assault, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Kid!Fic, M/M, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, kid!Gabe, kid!William
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laeteaillard/pseuds/legalliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General extra scenes for <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960866">Unexpected Places</a></p><p>1. (kid!Gabe/kid!William) Fairytales: William's parents go out and leave a babysitting Gabe behind.<br/>2. (kid!Gabe/kid!William) Back home: William escapes from attempted harrasment - straight into Gabriel's arms.<br/>3. (kid!Gabe/kid!William) Safe and sound: It's Christmas. Gabriel doesn't leave - or maybe he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fairytales

The single bed could fit both incredibly thin bodies with some space to spare. Gabriel, on top of his twelve years, had accepted an invitation to sleep – once again – at William’s house, taking care of the little boy while his parents were out to celebrate their anniversary. They had played and laughed, done puzzles and baked little muffins; it was now time to sleep. Will was already sleep-drunk; Gabe doubted that he could sleep having his little boy so close to him. They wore lookalike pj’s, where teddy bears drove formula one cars, but the smaller kid was much more gracious in them. He had had some trouble convincing the little boy to brush his teeth and an even bigger trouble convincing him that no, they couldn't sleep in the living room. So there they were, snuggled up in blankets, both tired, although William still strived to keep quiet.

The little one proffered his hands, holding the other boy’s shirt, instinctively searching for the warm chest and smiling when his cheek touched it. He looked like an angel, long-haired and everything. Gabe remembered William’s father asking him to convince the kid of the imperious need to let that hair be cut, to which William answered that he liked his hair the way it was, thank you all very much. He was the wittiest kid.

“Gabe...”

“Yes, my dear?” He kissed William’s forehead, cuddling him against himself.

“Will you tell me a story?” Bright hazel doe-eyes faced him, begging shamelessly.

“A story?” He nodded as vehemently as possible in his semi-conscious state. “About a prince?”

Those were popular with William: princes that fought dragons and earned treasures and mixed everything up just to get some profit. There were hardly any princesses, for the boy believed that grown-up girls were not much better than the ones he knew - except for his mother, and he was clear about his mother when it came to stories: she couldn’t be there, or else he wouldn’t have permission to roll about in the mud while fighting the dragon; what would be the fun, then? But the kid denied without a hesitation.

“About my future!”

Gabriel caressed the smaller boy’s face with the back of his free hand, this close to bursting in tenderness. God, he loved that boy. He felt like crap for using him like that, for never being able to tell him that he loved him differently than he would a little friend, a little brother. It was awful, in his almost teenage mentality, that he wanted to cover him in kisses, hug him all the time. He loved him, whole pack, heart, mind, body and soul. So he wanted him close – Gabe himself wasn’t perfectly aware of what this _close_ was – and how couldn’t he want so? It was too hard to escape the physicality involved in loving someone – although he was too certain that he wouldn’t as far as move towards him even if he had the chance. He knew that William was a kid, for God’s sake. He would never touch him. Not ever. He wouldn’t dare, he’d never have the guts to. He’d die before he did so.

And he took this responsibility like if loving wasn’t a two-handed way and like if he was too much of a grown-up.

“About your future...” Gabriel closed his eyes, not able to look him in the eyes. “I know what it will be today.” He cleared his throat and smiled, his eyes still closed. “Once upon a time there was a great artist of the music scene called William Eugene Beckett.”

“Junior!”

“Junior.” Gabe smiled condescendingly. “He was the biggest rock star that had ever been since Elvis Presley...”

He carried on telling the tale, praising the little boy. Gabe opened his eyes for a couple of instants whenever there was a critical part, smiling and receiving the beautiful view of that enlightened face. He kept playing that game for as long as he could, until the finale, a major, grand concert in Seattle, to close the story. William was already dozing off, smiling drunkenly. Gabe cuddled the smaller boy in a protective way, moving just enough to kiss him in the face. Little William ducked in a sluggish move and held his face up, touching Gabriel’s lips with his own in a light, brief touch, smiling innocently afterwards.

“Gabe?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I know, my boy.” He hugged him harder, unable to bite back a sigh. “I love you too.”

_You can’t imagine how much._


	2. Back home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William escapes from attempted harrasment - straight into Gabriel's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although it's not explicit, this is a heavier thing. We have a lot of violence, but little blood. It's more along the lines of psychological trauma and broken bones. This is the "bullying" that William reffers to in the [sixth chapter of UP](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960866/chapters/6138062) ("Instinctively, he leaned on the couch, looking for support the way he had once received when he was little, when he was bullied").

It was a very fine, very quiet morning. If anyone had told any of the boys that they would be undergoing one of the worst experiences of their lives that day, they would have frowned and laughed. Nothing in the day gave away anything about what was about to happen. Gabriel had asked William to be quiet up the monkey-bars in the playground after the break time was over so he could find him and they could skip the next classes to go practicing his piano at Fudge Records, where they had a brand new grand piano. To William’s teacher, Gabriel was ready to say the truth and confident that the woman was going to tell both couples of parents about what they wanted to do. There was an unspoken rule in Barrington Elementary: no one could come between Gabriel Saporta and William Beckett. Even the parents had asked the teachers that, whenever one wanted to meet and be around the other, they should just call whoever was available and leave the kids be. Usually, Mrs. Beckett picked them up every time, reprehending William with a fond smile for skipping classes. The kid was young but he really liked school – unlike Gabriel – so his mother was never worried. Whatever little Beckett did, he would never skip school if there was something to be learned on that day’s agenda.

That day, they were going to learn about hurt.

Gabriel could barely breathe. His throat was tight and dry, his lips parted in the beginning of a salute that would remain unsaid to the little kid currently draped in the arms of a man three times his little size, being pulled closer by him like a horny teenager would do to an unwilling girl. It was disgusting, shocking and repulsive. William’s cheeks were glistening with an intermittent stream of tears and his almond eyes closed with a disturbing amount of force every time any of the touches intensified. Gabriel was not young enough not to know what would happen if he didn’t do something, if he didn’t move. He knew that man was danger the moment he saw the way he held William. The twelve-year-old skin was suddenly sensitive to every movement, making him think of how he would become able to pick his boy from the monster in there. He was skinny but not weak; the whole point behind protecting William was to warrant that he could actually _fight_ for the kid, and win. He could manage a bit of beating if it was necessary, even if only to free his boy. William was probably too shocked to run but if they made enough noise someone would eventually show up. He could trust his boy to wail like a girl if he saw him being beaten. Anyway, he couldn’t let that carry on. The teenager there had begun to pull and push William, playing the kid like a pet. One of them would end up dead but William would have to be safe.

“Keep your hands off of him!”

The shout startled the teenager, who Gabriel then recognized as an eighth-grader named Christopher. The guy snarled at him. “Why, he’s your boyfriend, yeah? This sweet little honey here is getting in your pants? A foreigner like you?” He grabbed William’s chin with a very rough and very steady hand. “I think he wants something with me... Look at the way his eyes are pleading.”

Gabriel stared at the boy coiling up in Christopher’s embrace when the bigger guy tilted the little scared face to him. He would have no time to summon a grown up to help them, and the eighth-grader was minimally twice his own size, but walking away was out of the question. He couldn’t leave William. He could do anything but leave William. He didn’t even dare _touching_ William, how could he let someone else do it?

“You cannot do a thing, can you?” He slid that same huge, rude hand down Beckett’s delicate jaw-line. The smaller boy was beginning to bruise where the grabbing was worse. Arms. Neck. Chin. His little right hand was a mess of reds and purples; Gabriel’s blood bubbled with the idea that it might be broken. His little pianist with a broken hand. Gabriel saw the shudder that ran down the boy’s body and felt rage start to boil in his guts with a power he had never felt before. “You wouldn’t risk your pretty Latin face for this piece of a kid here... He’s not even that pretty, but let’s see how good he looks beneath me.”

This said, he tried to tilt William’s head up and lift him up from the floor, being met by the resolute force of so slender a body and its will to remain where he was. It had been surprising to see such resistance in that kid, so he prepared to do it with growing strength. Gabriel seemed to watch it in slow-motion, the moment when Christopher held his hand up, readying it to slam against the boy’s face. A single tear formed on the corner of William’s eye while he prepared to be struck for what didn’t seem to be the first time and he diminished even further.

Next thing Gabriel knew, he was on top of Christopher, hammering his nose with a bony fist, barely feeling the breaking of his own bones and not stopping until he heard the crack of the older guy’s cartilage. He had punched the taller guy in the face and brushed William aside, taking a speck of a moment just to realize that his kid was out of sight. Chritopher, who tried to shove his assailant away unsuccessfully despite the force and accuracy of his blows – and they were several, especially to his ribs and face, held the now broken nose and howled in pain, taking for it a moment that allowed Gabriel to roll away and get up to start kicking him in the ribs. He was so drowning in anger and pain for his little friend that he didn’t listen to William’s crying or to Ms. Morley’s begging that he please stopped it before he killed the other boy. She was checking on William but had to leave to look for help, under the deafening claiming made by Beckett because he was afraid that Gabriel would end up dead. He listened to nothing but to his own bones cracking and the blows he was giving.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. My. Boy. Again!” Gabriel was groaning through gritted teeth and punctuating every word with a stronger kick. “I’ll kill you. I swear I will.”

Gabriel continued to hear nothing till two pairs of very strong arms lifted his screaming and kicking figure and held him away from the other boy. One of them, the P.E. teacher, went to tend the wounded, fallen student, and the twelve-year-old shoved the other man away in a brisk movement, the sudden freedom making him fall down. His mind cleared in a rush and he stumbled to his feet, ignoring the way that the man tried to keep him still.

“Get off me!” His voice was shrill with fear. “WILLIAM!” He shouted just once before finding the coiled up figure beside the nearest tree, his head being caressed by Ms. Morley’s tiny, delicate hand. He ran to him, picking William up and breathing heavily in sheer relief when the boy hugged him with arms and legs, breaking into a shocked and fearful symphony of sobs. The weight was too much for his exhausted body, and for a moment he was thrown out of balance, being held by Ms. Morley. She was white as a sheet of paper. “My dear, I am here, it’s ok, you’re safe, you’re safe, shh...”

“I’m scared”, whispered he between sobs. His entire body trembled like an earthquake. “I thought... I thought...”

“Don’t, my boy; it’s ok now, I’m with you.” He kissed the boy’s head and only then he felt that something must be wrong with his face, for it hurt and he moaned. William startled immediately.

“You’re broken!” Tiny, bruised fingers traced his cheekbone, making him squint and shudder at the pain. Delicately, Beckett took his hand from the injury and Gabriel kissed it.

“It’s nothing. I’ll see a doctor soon. How is your hand? Are you broken?” William shook his head, moving the little fingers very thoroughly to reassure his friend. He clutched the boy closer. “Good. Now we’re going home.”

“Wait, you can’t leave!” The male teacher stared at him, unbelieving, but Gabriel paid it back with a scowl.

“I have a kid that had just escaped from being molested in my arms and I will take him to his parents. I swear to God I’ll hurt your faces and reputations if you come after me.”

That said, he started walking away, his body still numb from adrenaline, moving slow at first. Apparently, his accusation made the teacher shocked enough to prevent him from running after him, so when he got a chance, Gabriel ran, William shaking heavily, clung to his really bruised body. In the middle of the way, a car approached him and Ms. Morley stopped him dead on his tracks. She urged the boys inside and gave them a ride to William’s home. Little Beckett didn’t leave Gabriel’s grip for a moment. When they got close to the house and the car stopped to let them out, the older boy ran like if hell’s hounds were biting at his ankles, blindly and straight to the Becketts’ house. He kicked the door, once his arms were occupied with the fragile body of the little boy. A very distressed Mrs. Beckett opened it and shouted for her husband to come to the door. They had apparently been notified already, probably by Ms. Morley herself. Gently, the man tried to lift William from Gabriel’s arms, but the boy had glued himself to his neck with such force that it was impossible. Shaking his head when Mr. Beckett seemed to want to try again, he asked to come in. Both grown-ups let him enter the house; he sat on the couch and cuddled his boy even closer. At the door, Ms. Morley was being welcomed too. William’s mother sat by Gabriel’s side, caressing her son’s head, and after a moment she embraced them both. Mr. Beckett asked Ms. Morley to sit down and took his seat on the tiny coffee table, not even caring about how his jeans would scratch the wood and the beautifully engraved glass. He strived for words.

“Gabriel--”

“He was going to touch him.” Mrs. Beckett’s embrace tightened and Ms. Morley’s paleness intensified. “I couldn’t stand it. I flew on him and I-- I am so sorry. I should have known it would happen.”

“Calm down, Gabriel, you’re a child.” Mr. Beckett touched his knee with gentleness and exchanged looks with William’s teacher. “Is he hurt?” Gabriel denied it, although William had some really bad bruises from being grabbed that rudely. It was nothing serious, though. “Do you want us to call your mother now? _You_ are hurt pretty badly.”

“You don’t have to, I can sort myself out if just-- ” His voice choked and he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. “Oh, God, you have to protect William. All of you. He’s not safe in there, everyone can see him and touch him there and I won’t be around forever.” He hid his face in Beckett’s hair. Ms. Morley couldn’t help but to feel like a stranger, but William was her student, her first class student, her favorite. She loved that kid more than anything and she couldn’t have let them alone. “You haven’t seen him, you don’t--” His voice cracked and lowered. “You don’t know what it is like.”

Finally, Gabriel gave in to crying. He was in pain, he was shocked, he was feeling horrid. In his lap, William shifted uneasily and turned to face his father. Mrs. Beckett gasped when she saw how large the bruise on his little chin was.

“Christopher... He broke Gabriel, dad.” The little boy trembled, but his tiny bruised hand caressed Gabriel’s arm steadily. “Christopher took me from the monkey-bars and tried to lift me up and I didn’t want to, so he tried to pull my shirt and I cried. Gabriel found me and Christopher broke him because Gabriel didn’t want him to touch me.” He hugged Gabriel’s arm and started himself to cry out loud, to which Mr. Beckett joined his wife’s embrace and rocked the two kids together. “He... he... he’s hurt, dad, and I was there crying, I didn’t--”

“Oh God.” Both parents exchanged looks with each other and with the teacher, who nodded vehemently. “Boys, listen to me. It’s ok. You’re safe now, you’re home. No one will harm you here.” William sir sighed and placed a kiss in each little head. “I have to call the cops, ok? You’ll need to drink something and calm down a little. Do you think you can do it?” Both kids shook his heads, but Mrs. Beckett said they’d have a couple of chamomile teas anyway. The boys protested, but soon they were all tears again. Ms. Morley sat beside them while the Becketts urged themselves to do all they had to, continuing to rock and comfort the children.

“You were so brave, my boys”, murmured her, almost crying along. “We’ll take Christopher away, you don’t have to worry, he’ll never touch anyone again.” She kissed William’s head, making Gabriel shift and stare at her. She was still young, but she tried her best to show herself as someone he could trust doubtlessly there. Apparently, it worked, because Gabriel’s body subsided into the rocking and he finally relaxed a little.

It took over an hour for the kids to stop crying restlessly. Mr. Beckett called Gabriel’s mother, who came right away and gave the kids homemade cookies, which helped to calm them down. An ambulance was called and Gabriel was tended under the disapproving looks of the paramedics, who said that he would have to go to the hospital for some x-rays. William went with him. They couldn’t keep the boys apart; it was a battle to keep William steady while they x-rayed the older boy. He ran to Gabriel as soon as he could, waiting for the result with his parent’s and Gabe’s mom. Ms. Morley had gone back to school to see what would happen in that front, but the Becketts said they would tell her as soon as things were sorted out. At last, they found out that Gabriel had broken three knuckles, a couple of ribs and a toe, fractured his jaw lightly and twisted his right wrist and knee. William was unharmed, but he was escorted by a police psychologist to explain what had happened. Gabriel waited for him and was interrogated soon after. He was so angry at Christopher that he had to control himself not to say that he wanted the boy to drop dead, although it was clear that he did. They didn’t lie the tiniest bit. Even the threats, Gabriel told it all. He didn’t know how helpful it would be, but he had to _try_.

When they finally headed home, already late at night, the boys begged not to be parted. Gabriel’s mom was ok with it, and Mr. Beckett offered her the guest room. They tucked the boys in and sat to try and clear up their heads. They were midway into the conversation when William’s father blurted out.

“Thank you for letting Gabe sleep in here, Jeanette.”

“He wouldn’t stand still on his own tonight. It’s best for them anyway.” She sighed and held the cup more strongly. She knew how much her kid loved the Becketts’ boy. “I get nauseous just thinking of what happened.”

Mrs. Beckett shivered. “So do I.” Her eyes glistened with un-cried tears. “God, I know he’s been seriously hurt but I am so glad that your boy was there.”

“He loves William”, said the other woman simply, stating the obvious. “He’d be there no matter what.”

It was another of the unspoken rules regarding those kids relationship: they never tried to separate them. The Becketts had seen it with quite some suspicion when a boy of Gabriel’s age started to be so devoted to their kid, but they had observed the kids for long, had met the Saportas, had spoken to Gabriel’s parents and exposed his doubts and fears. They were already familiar with the fact that the kids liked to sleep in the same bed, that they could spend several days together relating without getting bored. William had never had a friend upon whom he had depended that much, and although it worried his parents, they couldn’t keep the boys apart. They had never seen their boy so happy, so they wanted it to last as much as it could.

“I am so terrified that you’re leaving. William will crash.” Mrs. Beckett’s voice faltered. “Don’t you think you could leave him here for winter break? We can take care of him; I swear I’ll treat him like a child of mine.”

Jeanette shook her head. “You’re smart enough to know it would be worse. He’d have to face his classes and the loss of his best friend. At least like this he’ll be around people he trusts.”

The parents kept on talking, low voices and brief comments, for still some time. Meanwhile, in William’s room, the little boy had clung to Gabriel so firmly that it pressured his broken ribs, but the older boy would not complain for the world.

“Gabriel”, murmured him, touching the immobilized torso of his friend. The bruising of the little hand was fading thanks to some miraculous pomade they had applied at it in the hospital.

“Tell me, my boy.” Gabriel’s voice was rough from sleep, tiredness, crying and screaming. William’s heart skipped a beat for seeing his friend so broken.

“I am scared.”

“To sleep?” He held out his hand to touch the bruised face of his boy, but it was the harmed one and he feared he would strike William with it. The smaller boy shook his head and placed a chaste kiss on his broken, bandaged fingers. He was bursting with gratitude, with love, with fear, all of them feelings that his innocent childish heart was having a hard time coping with, especially once they were all mixed together.

“To go back.”

Gabriel hugged him harder, pulling him closer, feeling his body scream in pain and not caring, not even complaining. Nothing could matter right then. Nothing was more important to him than his boy’s safety. He’d have to talk to him and to Ms. Morley and he’d build a glass dome under which he’d keep William if needed it would be. “No one will ever hurt. Ever.”

“I don’t want you to hurt so I don’t.” Little Beckett’s voice was cracking with tears.

“I am not giving you an option, Willy.” He was stern and firm, despite his own fear. He had received orders to not ever get into a fight like that. One of his ribs had almost gone into his diaphragm. He could have died. He had mixed up everything inside himself running with William in his arms. The doctor had said that his fingers would need physiotherapy to get back to what they were before. “I love you and I will protect you. I could give my life for you.”

“They could break you for real.” The quiet crying had sobs interlaced with it and was wetting Gabriel’s chest. “I can’t be without you, what am I going to do without you?”

Gabriel sighed, caressing his silken brown hair. “If it ever comes to this, Willy, you have your parents. You have your sister. Mrs. Jenkins and Ms. Morley love you. You will find other friends. Better friends. You are strong and gentle and irreplaceable. You will never be alone.”

Despite the fact that it was true, nothing could convince William that he would be alright without Gabriel. Nothing could be alright without Gabriel. He knew it with every bit of sureness that he could pull out of his heart.

“Don’t leave me, Gabriel”, begged he, clutching himself closer to the other, like if he wanted to merge them. “Please.”

“I won’t. I’m with you, under your skin.” He kissed the boy’s forehead. “I will never leave you.”

That was an astonishing lie, although none of them knew it by then. When they finally found out, it would be too late already.


	3. Safe and sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas. Gabriel doesn't leave - or maybe he does.

William’s mother had just managed to sleep after putting him to bed when the knocking sounded. It was light and smooth, careful, intent. She didn’t listen, his father didn’t listen, but he did. It was Christmas night; he had already opened every present and cried over every single one of them, unable to get over the loss of his best friend. It had been despairing to see; that Christmas had been the worst they had ever been to. There had been barely any joking or playing; William’s grandparents left before lunch and the boy went on and off sleep until his stomach growled; he ate little and threw everything up as soon as his eyes met the tiny ring on his middle finger and the sobs restarted. No one was able to make him take the ring away or keep any food down. In the end, they had decided to give him a mild sedative to keep him calmer, and sleepiness and exhaustion won over his suffering and hurt.

But they didn’t mask the knocking.

William got up and out of the bed so quickly that he hit the head on his desk; a small trickle of blood showed up and dripped twice on his pj’s. He didn’t mind it, brushing his hand over the harmed skin and running downstairs as quickly and silently as he could. He could not wake his parents. They wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t let him go, they wouldn’t let him see who was at the door and he knew who was there, he had no doubts about who he would find waiting for him. Not minding his parents warnings, he opened the door, the lights of the Christmas decorations assaulting his eyes as a pair of strong, snow-sprinkled, leather-clad arms held him up and hugged him as if he were a pillow. William hugged him back, sobbing restlessly, his hands getting lost in Gabriel’s hair, tugging at them to prove that yes, he was real, he was there, he had not left, it had been a prank, it had been nothing.

“I am so sorry”, murmured the taller boy, swaying into the room and locking the door behind them. He had snow on his hair and his unprotected hands were cold against William’s pajama top, but the boy didn’t mind, he was there, his best friend had come back for him. “Oh God, William, I am so sorry, my boy.”

“You left, I saw you leaving and I thought I was going to stay and I couldn’t”, managed him between sobs and panting, shuddering at the thought of the letter that he had let fall on the couch and didn’t have the guts to pick up again. “You scared me; I thought I would be alone!”

“No, no, my boy, I could never, I would never--”

Gabriel hugged him even closer to his freezing body, until he calmed down and stopped shaking. Only then William realized that he was cold and so was the other. Begging for Gabriel to be quiet and untie his boots, he invited him to his room, to the place where they had been together so many times, where they had told each other stories and laughed and promised never to leave. He knew that there was something in that happening that was too weak, he knew it without understanding that there was a word to describe it, that the thing he felt was a fragility, was a kind of issue that could mean the tearing apart of what was there. Quietly, he watched as Gabriel stripped his coat and jeans and remained with the pajamas he was wearing beneath the heavier clothing. In them, teddy bears drove Formula One cars in schizophrenic routes.

They lay side by side, the single bed too little for them like it had always been. William hugged the other and felt the reassurance of the heat, the slow heat that was building up under Gabriel’s skin and that was the thing that warranted him that yes, it was happening; he was really there, for no one could ever be as warm as Gabriel. He felt the tender kiss that the taller boy gave him on his forehead, felt his free hand caress his hair, so like always, so like before that letter, that day, that horrid, horrid day.

“I never wanted to leave”, murmured Gabriel under his breath. “I can’t live without you, Willy. I’d die if I had to.”

William didn’t answer, but he knew the feeling; he had felt torn apart earlier that same day, so hopeless that even living sounded like too much of an effort. Feeling stronger, he patted Gabriel’s shoulder clumsily. “You don’t have to leave. You can be here. You can always be here. You don’t have to leave ever again, even if your parents tell you to. I can take care of you.”

It was an inversion of their roles, but Gabriel took it anyway. He let William depict a Christmas that his little sorrow-filled mind had put aside, one in which he had been given an acoustic guitar that was “waaaaaaaay too big” for him, in which he had played with his grandfather, in which he had baked with his mother and grandma. He told him everything he could remember before the sleepiness kicked in again. He felt drowsy and so impossibly happy, so relieved, to have Gabriel beside him again that it felt like heaven. He yawned, making Gabriel giggle.

“Are you sleepy, my boy?”, asked the older one.

“I am”, confessed him in a low voice. “But if I sleep, you can run away.”

Gabriel held him again, like he always did when he wanted to reassure him. “I won’t leave, remember? I’ve told you so before. I can’t leave you.”

William was not sure if he believed those words, but he wanted to, and he wanted it so hard that he nodded and relaxed. Sleep took over him before he could hear Gabriel’s “good night”.

When he opened his eyes again, it was dead night already. Not even the lights outside his windows were lit anymore; the sky showed a very poor tapestry of stars and no moon. He moved little, to try to keep Gabriel asleep, but felt no resistance in bed. Beside him, the mattress was empty, the duvets all messed up but obviously empty. A quick look to his desk showed that Gabriel’s coat and jeans were gone too. A pounding started in his heart, his heartbeat racing to the point of deafening him. The boy got up and stumbled out of the bedcovers to go looking for the other, like if his life depended on it.

He found nothing.

Not a single trace. The door was locked. The letter was where it had been forgotten. He was alone again, alone and unsafe. Childish, desperate, he gave up holding it back and cried. He found and re-read the letter and held it and cried till his lungs gave up. Hours later, his mother would find him with a bruise on his forehead, hugging the letter and snoring lightly, coiling up under the lit Christmas tree with every available picture there was of Gabriel spread around him.

Miles away, in the way to New Jersey, Gabriel would startle in the car. The movement of the vehicle and the unknown horizons would make him give up every hope he had had of being alright ever again, so he would weep his heart out till the hole in his soul was filled with sorrow. Only then he would be able to fall asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a Christmas special with a hint of sadism, but I wanted to show how powerful and deep their friendship was - to the point of dependence. Besides it, I think this particular Christmas was important to them and, of course, I wanted to write a Christmas' "tale".


End file.
